


Salesmen

by UnproblematicMe



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Human AU, Humor, M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28513704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnproblematicMe/pseuds/UnproblematicMe
Summary: Mr. Dowling looks forward to a peaceful afternoon. Unfortunately two salesmen are eager to do business with him. However, they seem to be more focused on each other than on him.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 76
Collections: GO Meet-Cutes, Good Omens Fic Writers Workshop: Weekly Prompts





	Salesmen

**Author's Note:**

> A short story for a server prompt:  
> Aziraphale is a bible salesman and Crowley is an encyclopedia salesman, and they fight over territory. Alternatively, au where Aziraphale is a bible salesman who tries to sell one to Crowley, who in turn tries to sell an encyclopedia to Aziraphale!

Mr. Thaddeus Dowling groaned. He had just sat down to have a nice cup of tea (maybe with a tiny drop of whiskey) when the bell rang. His butler had the day off, the maid was sick and the Nanny had made it pretty clear from the beginning that getting the door was not her job. So much for a free afternoon.

Sighing, Thaddeus walked towards the door and recognized the shape of not one but two men through the milk glass. This was not an area where one had to fear to meet any criminals – at least not the kind to be a direct threat to one’s health – and so he opened the door.

Two men, one blond, chubby and short, the other a slim and tall redhead stared at each other with ice in their eyes. But when they noticed him, they simultaneously turned their faces to him and smiled broadly.

“Hello, Mr. Dowling,” greeted the redhead. “My name is Anthony Crowley, I’m selling quality encyclopaedias and I have an offer to make that a man of class like yourself certainly will appreciate.”

“Speaking of class,” chimed the blonde man in. “I’m Aziraphale Fell. You, Mr. Dowling look like a man to value manners. Therefor you would surely prefer to listen to my offer first since I was the first to arrive.”

“You were what?” Crowley exclaimed. “Excuse me? You walked past me, while I was at the gate.”

“You mean while you were at the gate, smoking,” Fell said in a saccharine tone. “Apparently your priority was _not_ to make business with Mr. Dowling. Mine was, so I walked right in. And was first here at the door step.”

“Uh, I…” Dowling tried to speak.

“This kind of rules lawyering is not very becoming for a man selling bibles,” Crowley mocked. “But anyway, I’m confident a rational person like Mr. Dowling is more interested in books which provide facts than this mythical nonsense anyway.”

“Oh, facts?” Fell said sarcastically. “Facts so cemented that encyclopaedias have to be revised regularly? The bible, my dear fellow, is eternal! A man of principle such as Mr. Dowling is sure to value consistency and reliability!”

“Gentlemen,” Dowling said. “We can keep this short, I…”

“Reliability? Oh please!” Crowley laughed, ignoring Dowling. “Not two translations of the bible’s original texts are alike! Even if this all was no hearsay nonsense and really the word of God – nobody really knows what He wants to say in English.”

“Oh, if you are so worried about the accuracy of translations,” Fell said, “you’ll be happy to hear that this bible is a product of the decade long hard work of scholars in the fields of old language, linguistics, theology and history. Educated men like Mr. Dowling treasure the work of experts!”

“I sure do, but…” Dowling tried.

“So what?” Crowley interrupted. “You think our encyclopaedia was writing by a monkey in a funny hat? This book is an unmatched collection of knowledge provided by academics of _all_ fields, not just those who are into invisible entities in the sky.”

“Sirs, I really don’t…”

“Disrespecting other people’s faith is not a pleasant pastime for a gentleman!”

“Neither is skipping in line.”

“Gentlemen…”

“I wasn’t going to wait for you to finish your poison stick.”

“Oh, self-righteousness! What a surprise!”

“Criticism is not self-righteousness! And with your condescending attitude towards religious people you really have no moral high ground to…”

“I take one of each!” Mr. Dowling all but yelled.

Fell and Crowley fell silent and finally turned their attention to Mr. Dowling. For a second they looked surprised as if they had forgotten he was even here. But then they both smiled at him.

“Excellent choice, Mr. Dowling,” Fell said as he walked into the house.

“You won’t regret it,” Crowley said, following his competitor.

Sighing Dowling led the two into his office, signed the necessary papers and bought a bible and an encyclopaedia, both expensive but nice to look at.

Half an hour later, he let the two men out of his house and fell against the door with a breath of relief. His eyes fell on the grandfather clock in the corridor. He smiled.

It had cost him a lot of money, but at least a significant part of his free afternoon was left.

**An hour before**

Aziraphale walked up to the Dowling residence. Frowning he noticed a slender redhead in an elegant suit, leaning against the marble pillar next to the iron gate. At the man’s feet stood a black bag, similar to Aziraphale’s own, except there was not a plain white crucifix on it.

The gate was open so Aziraphale wondered why the man did not just walk through. Apparently he was here to sell something as well. But after getting closer, Aziraphale saw that the man was having a cigarette. Now he also saw how handsome the stranger was.

When the redhead spotted him, he gave Aziraphale a look over and grinned. Aziraphale blushed. Judging by his – admittedly becoming – fashionable attire, the man probably did not appreciate Aziraphales tartan assemble. Some people just had no sense of immortal style.

“Good day,” Aziraphale said, polite nonetheless.

“Well, hello!” The man grinned. “Coming to bring the word of God into this house of all places?”

“Um, excuse me?”

“Dowling? Politicians? Evil?” the man said. “No? Well, I thought it was funny.”

“Ah, I’m afraid,” Aziraphale smiled. “I’m not familiar with the occupation of all my potential customers.”

“New in the area, huh, angel?”

“Angel?”

“Yeah, spreading the word of… forget it,” Crowley sighed. “Seems my jokes don’t fire today.”

“Ah, yes, erm… well, yes, I’m new in the London area.” Aziraphale stretched out his hand and said, “Aziraphale Fell, at your service.”

“Are you now?” The man smirked while he took the offered hand. “Anthony J. Crowley. My friends just say Crowley.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Same.”

Aziraphale watched as the man finished his cigarette and leant himself against the second pillar.

“What are you doing?” Crowley asked.

“Oh, I’ll just wait here until you are done. You were here first, after all.”

Crowley chuckled.

“You let me snatch a customer?”

“You are selling bibles, too?”

“Nope. Encyclopaedias.”

“Not exactly substitute goods, dear,” Aziraphale smiled.

“Maybe not.” Crowley shrugged. “But people have a budget, you know. A customer might buy my stuff and then think he bought enough books for the months.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale bit his lips but then he said, “Still, you were here before me. Business without morals…”

“You won’t sell morals to the upper crust,” Crowley grinned. “Not to discourage you, but bibles might not go well in this area.”

“I’ll have you know that I was the best salesman in my last region,” Aziraphale said, chin up in defiance. “I sold bibles in darker places than this.”

Again Crowley smirked and stepped a little closer.

“Pride, angel?” He said. “Isn’t that a sin?”

Aziraphale swallowed and felt his cheeks heat up. Was this guy flirting?

“Be assured, that I’m neither an angel nor a priest,” he said. “I’m just selling bibles. I can afford a little sinning now and then.”

“A little sinning, hm? Now that sounds interesting,” Crowley all but purred. “How about we sin together?”

“I… you… we literally just met,” Aziraphale stuttered. “I don’t know what gave you the impression I’d be so easy, but…”

“What? No, no, no! Sorry,” Crowley hurried to say. “I meant business-wise.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale said, not sure if relieved or disappointed. “How could we sin together business-wise?”

“Look, I spoke to several colleagues about Dowling,” Crowley explained. “Cheap as fuck, rude as fuck, never buys anything. Every salesman in London has tried. Manners, charms, arguments – all failed. So maybe you and I together could try something different.”

“What could we try when manners, charms and arguments failed?”

“Annoyance, angel,” Crowley grinned. “Annoyance.”

**Now**

Together they left the Dowling’s home. Chatting and giggling like kids who managed to trick their head teacher.

When they arrived at the property line, Aziraphale pointed down the road.

“My car is parked in this direction.”

“Yeah, mine’s to the other side.”

“Well, it has been nice doing business with you, Mr. Crowley.”

“Same back at you, Mr. Fell.”

Awkward silence fell and Crowley grew nervous. Soon Aziraphale would say his goodbyes and leave. So he forced himself to say something.

“We were a pretty good team, right?” he asked.

“Quite.”

“Well, I… I heard of several difficult people in this area,” Crowley said. “People rich enough to buy both our monthly stock but too cheap to even buy a comic.”

“Oh, what a shame.”

“Right? So maybe, we should try our new tactic on some of them?”

“Sounds good,” Aziraphale answered, an adorable shade of red spreading across his cheeks.

They exchanged business cards, Crowley promised to call if he found a candidate and Aziraphale did the same.

Crowley got into his car, wearing a broad grin. If he felt more like a high school teenager who got the number of a cute guy than like an adult who just made a business connection, nobody had to know.

End


End file.
